The Arms Of The Ocean
by MockingJayOdesta
Summary: AU. Each chapter will contain a different way Annie Cresta could've gone mad in the current world.
1. Chapter 1

**~June 24th 2012~**

_The Sun newspaper._  
Annie Cresta, pictured below, struck gold at the Olympics last night. This makes Cresta the youngest female to ever win a gold in rowing- being eighteen. Annie was awarded with yet another gold medal for Team GB when she came first in a Single Scull race against Russia's Lorna Sckinzoff, America's Nina Robberts and Japan's Hamako Ito. Cresta won by far, Ito in second, Sckinzoff in third and lastly, Robberts. Annie was very emotional as she accepted her victory in front of the millions of people tuning in to watch her win. After the celebratory flowers were handed out, the rower's partner; Finnick Odair ran onto the stage and swept her off her feet. A happy ending for a well deserved win.

**~July 1st 2012~**  
_Annie's POV:_

I had already begun vigorous training for the 2016 Olympics in Rio. The hours in the boat were long and the time I spent with Finn and my friends was ever shrinking. Did I really want this? I had won once, why did I have to do it all over again? I couldn't be a rower forever- once you're past your sell by- that's it.  
I thought about what my future held as I rowed further into the ocean. I pictured retiring at forty, Finnick still working as a diving instructor. I imagined picking my teenage kids up from school and doing a bit of food shopping for the upcoming week. I dreamed of an ideal life. Row after row after row, I was sweating more and more in the mid summer heat. My training shirt was soaked in salty sweat and sea water and my hair was sticking to my face. I kept furiously rowing until I had no idea where I was. Suddenly I realised I really didn't know where I was and suddenly I realised there was no land around me and suddenly I realised I had no food or water. How far had I rowed? I looked around desperately but I could see no sign of humans and the sun was beating down on my unprotected body, making me sweat even more. I sat in my little boat for about an hour when finally I realised no one was coming for me. Finnick was at work until 4:30, father was dead, mother was dead. The only one who could help was Mags- my trainer but how was she to know I was stranded somewhere in the arms of the ocean?  
"Help!" I stupidly called. Nether the less, it was something to do and kidded me into thinking someone was going to assist me. "Help! Anybody?" My mind was resolved into believing not a soul was close enough to even see me as a pin point let alone hear me. Fabulous.  
I quizzed myself about if I could row back ashore except I had no idea which direction to go and I hadn't the stamina left. I noticed the sun was setting and remembered that my drawstring bag containing my phone, a towel, a water bottle, and a pack of dried raspberries remained at the shore. I could've sworn I started to salivate at the thought of my favourite snack whilst I fretted about the fate of my lonely bag. My legs began to cramp up as the minuets ticked by meanwhile I attempted to think up a SOS plan without success. I schemed up crazy, extravagant saviour plans which involved being rescued by mermaids and hijacking a helicopter to pass the excruciatingly slow passing time. I fought fatigue and eventually surrendered, falling asleep with my head on my knees. I awoke to find my boat rocking and my oars slipping away from me. "Crap!" I exclaimed, my mouth nastily dry. My arms were flinging about, trying to retrieve the reluctant to return oars. Finally I got both back and my eyes gave in to the tears behind the flood gates. When I'd finished crying, my eyes were sore and puffy and I desperately needed a drink. I recalled a quote I'd read once which I finally understood; 'water, water, everywhere, nor a drop to drink.' I knew sea water was not drinkable but I didn't really see the harm in it personally, so I cupped my dry hands and scooped some clear water up which felt somewhat soothing on my coarse skin. My chapped lips met the shockingly salty liquid and I gulped at it, returning my hands in the plentiful sea several times. The delicious water burned my throat and stung my sinuses but felt surprisingly good. Supposing I counted correctly, I drank the same measurement of beautiful water 17 more times before the vomiting began. The bubbling mess erupted in my stomach and shot up my throat, then it all came out in beautifully repetitive patterns- vomit for five seconds, pause ten seconds, vomit five seconds, pause five seconds. It was a nightmare. And the worst of all was that no one could hear me screaming for help.  
I passed out minuets after beginning vomiting and when I woke, the sun was coming up. My stomach felt queasy as I had just threw my guts up and not eaten in a day or so. The intense training and my usual food guide had been completely thrown off, as I ate quite a lot in order to stay healthy. I thought a was going mad, as being alone was a scary concept for me these days. When I was alone it gave me time to think of my past and my lack of ability to think positively- considering both my parents were murdered when I was fifteen, and my father went through a stage where he enjoyed abusing my mother when I was from four to six, but that was eradicated when he was arrested for drink driving. By the time he returned the next year, all was forgotten and forgiven it seemed, and as a young child, I was incredibly easily manipulated; I loved my dad, he was a good man at heart. Whereas I forgave my troubled father, I never forgot what pain my mother experienced to stay with whom she loved. One beating particularly dawned on me with such force, It somehow stayed tattooed on my mind.

**~December 25th 2000~**

"Merry Christmas, Annie, my sweet heart." My mother's gentle tone soothed me as her beautiful hands passed a pristinely wrapped red, large parcel to me. My young fingers fumbled as I struggled to untie the perfect bow which sealed the gift, I was presented with. Finally the bow my mother had made unfolded and the pearl ribbon lay lifeless on the knee of my brand new cat pyjamas. My father sipped at his freshly produced tea and his handsome face warmly smiled at my lack of intellect. I tore the crisp expensive wrapping paper off the present and let my eyes behold the glory of the pink _Furby_ toy that every six year old desired. I squealed with delight and flung my arms around my taken mum.  
"Thank you so so so so so much, mummy!" I jumped around my living room with excitement, letting my lilac dressing gown bounce about with me. "Thanks, daddy!" I sprinted towards my father, accidentally sending the boiling mug of tea flying all over him. Time seemed to be frozen whilst my father shrieked in horror as the boiling beverage spilled over his chest. The blue pyjamas he wore were now a murky purple to match his red face. My temperamental dad raised a hand to slap me but before he could, dearest mother was standing in front if me.

"Don't you dare, Dale." Mum warned. Suddenly my father shrunk from The Incredible Hulk to a man with tea dripping from his night shirt.

"You'd better move, Cathy." The floor seemed to shake as my mother's head did too, making her long, flawless platinum hair flow in the air. Without another moments warning, my father's hand was smacked hard across my mother's cheek. She let out a small noise of defeat before father was laying into her; punching until she was shrivelling mess on the floor.  
"Mummy?" I whispered whilst father left the room and the crimson blood was setting into the cream carpet. "Mummy, come on." I tried pulling her up but she was unconscious on the floor. Surely father's beatings would've killed me. A minuet later, dad returned with the medical box, crying his eyes out.  
"Cathy, darling, I'm so sorry." He whimpered as he tried to clear up the bloody gash on mother's forehead after she had gained consciousness. "Annie. I love you." I nodded, trying to pretend nothing had happened, but it had.

**~July 2nd 2012~**

I desperately looked around, silently begging for a beacon of hope. I felt my weak body swaying from side to side, not able to get the hang of controlling myself. My stomach churned in its emptiness, making me gag although there was only salty air to throw up. My whole body was uncontrollably spasming and all I could do was allow myself to have a seizure and let the tears dribble from my sunken eyes. I was as good as dead.

**~July 3rd 2012~**

_The Sun newspaper._

Rower, Annie Cresta, was rescued from the centre of the sea last night. Cresta, picture below, was found unconscious, dehydrated and starving by three fishermen just nine days after her heroic gold win in the Olympics. Doctors at St. Gareth's Hospital tell us that the eighteen year old will physically recover soon but her mental state will never be the same again. Mags Cohen, Cresta's rowing coach said _"Annie is normally a bright and beautiful girl with fantastic rowing ability. Whatever happens, Finnick and I will continue to support her throughout his tragedy, Annie will never be alone."_ Whilst a rehabilitation programme is constructed, the champion will stay in St. Gareth's Hospital.


	2. Chapter 2

**~July 13th 2012~**

_Annie's POV:_  
I wrapped myself up in the sleeping bag that was my little home, trying to keep the rain out. The cup that held my meagre collectings laid on its side. It seemed that even the inanimate objects were giving up. I sighed as another business man chuckled at my misfortune, it wasn't my fault I was homeless... Was it? After all, how could I have helped the fact that i went bankrupt? I sighed yet again, watching a mother steer her young children away from me, whispering "Don't ever get involved with people like that". I groaned as my tired body stood up and I dragged myself away from my makeshift house to go to the public bathroom that even tramps like me try our best to avoid. However, people like me can't be picky, so using that philosophy, I entered the toilets and squinted as the lights, that were an awful shade of yellow, flickered. I met my own stare in the cracked mirror. Run mascara, purple bags, blue bruises, pale skin, red greasy hair, stained green jumper, ripped dirty joggers, ill fitting trainers. I had come to accept my ragged appearance in the past two weeks or so. Food had been a struggle and warmth even harder to come across. I was giving in. I growled at how bad I'd let myself go and retreated into a cubical at once to give myself relief.  
I walked up the stairs of the bathroom and returned to my miniature house. My finger traced the frame that held the picture of my boyfriend, Finnick and my adoptive mother, Mags. Every time I looked at that picture I thought of how stupid I was to have moved to America. Back home in Britain, Finnick and Mags lived together, thinking I was on a fancy study holiday with my friend, Johanna, when in actual fact, she had gone missing a month ago, on the second day of the holiday. I daren't tell them what was going on- I didn't want to worry them as they had enough on their plate already with all the threats from Coriolanus Snow. But that's another story. I threw my body on top of my sleeping bag and counted the money from the cup and in my pocket and all together I had $47.27. I folded my house up and tucked it safely away behind the industrial sized bin, out of sight. With my money in my jumper pocket and my hood over my head, I walked into an alley way that I knew all too well.  
"How did I know you would show up?" A tall man in blue jeans and a white vest stood cross armed on a wooden stool.  
"Nova."I nodded to greet the familiar face. "$40's worth?" Nova sighed as he felt around his pocket, a red bandana covering his mouth. I wondered how he wasn't cold in just a vest- I was freezing in a hoodie. We swapped the contents of our hands and without another word, we both went separate ways. I felt the tears rushing down my face as I ran towards the bin that concealed my home and retrieved it and laid it out again. Opening the box of pills, I felt myself crying even more and more. I shouldn't have been doing this but I'd been doing it for too long to stop now. I swallowed several of the drugs down and almost instantly felt relief. My head didn't bang; my chin didn't quiver; my eyes didn't cloud over. I felt neutral.

**~15th July 2012~**  
_The Sun newspaper._

Homeless girl, Annie Cresta, was found on the streets of America, unconscious due to heavy drugs yesterday. Cresta's boyfriend and adoptive mother both had no idea that she was inhabiting a shop doorway and promised to stay with her throughout the whole incident. Annie was usually a bright and happy girl but when she holidayed to America with her long term friend, Johanna Mason, everything began to turn sour as Mason went missing and Cresta lost all her money. The 18 year old turned to drugs only once when she was in a deep depression and doctors say that she may never be back to her normal state again.


	3. Chapter 3

**~February 18th 2012~**

_Annie's POV:_

I hauled my coral coloured suitcase along behind me. A strange scent of polish and sweat struck me as I set foot in the air port, I tried my best to ignore the fat stinking man squashed against me in the revolving door. My pace quickened as I saw the short queue formed in front of my flight's check in desk, indicating I was late. The suitcase irritatingly bashed against the shiny floor tiles as I ran towards the two people in the queue. I impatiently waited in line, biting at my nails, praying I wouldn't be too late. Finally it was my turn.  
"Hi, how can I help you today?" The woman at the desk slowly asked.  
"Um... I'd like to check in for my flight to Spain please." The girl with the name badge 'Leona' nodded and wrote something on a piece of paper.  
"Can I see your boarding pass please?" Leona asked politely, outstretching her hand.  
"Sure." I grabbed my white backpack off my shoulders and fiddled with the zip, trying to undo it. Once it was open, I rummaged through the bag, hoping I hadn't left the slip of paper at my flat or in Johanna's car. Eventually I found it, crumpled underneath my book.  
"Can I get your name, please." The girl asked.  
"Annie Cresta." Leona smiled and pushed her squared glasses back up her nose.  
"Wonderful. Would you mind passing over your suitcase so I can put a tag on it?" I nodded and did as I was told, passing my case onto the conveyer-belt. Leona folded a green tag over with LTN printed on it and my last name. I zipped my backpack up, collecting my boarding pass and watched as my suitcase disappeared into a black divider. "Have a nice flight." Leona smiled at me as I walked off with only my white bag.  
I joined yet another queue for a security check. I hated them. I couldn't stand the way that everybody stared when you walked through and the detector beeped.

I remember on my first flight, I was with Finnick two years ago and we were going to Spain to get away from England for a week. As soon as I stepped within the metal detector, it beeped. I was petrified and when the towering security guards began to feel my arms, I broke down in tears.

The voice on the television screen instructed me to remove all metal and transfer it into a black tray as well as my hand luggage. I did so then began to shake as the queue shortened and there was only one person in front of me. The man dressed in a grey suit with a black tie shuffled along as if he was just told some horrible news and passed the metal detector. He shot a mean look at the security guards then gathered his stuff at the end of the conveyer belt. I followed in his footsteps, taking slow steps towards the metal detector, shaking like a leaf. After no beeping noises occurred, I felt the corners of my lips go up in relief but immediately forced them down in case people thought I was a weirdo. I sprinted, faster than an Olympian, through duty free and found the departure gate I was supposed to be at. Finally I flashed my boarding pass and passport to flight attendants then ran down a transfer tube to get to the airplane door. I sucked a deep breath in through my teeth and adjusted my leggings so Finnick's monochrome Cleopatra top covered the top of my thighs. I tightened up the black ribbon on my half up half down hair style and stepped onboard the plane, slightly trembling. My quivering body didn't make walking any easier - thank goodness I was wearing my hightop white converse and not heels.

"Can I see your boarding pass please?" A flight attendant kindly asked so I nodded and shakily passed the A4 paper over. "First time flying, Annie?" His kind brown eyes soothed me a little.  
"Second, but I'm terrified, between you and me." I giggled a tiny bit at the end of my sentence and so did he.  
"You'll be fine. I'm Eric and if you're feeling nervous, just call me over." Eric smiled and so did I.  
"Thanks." I took the pass back and walked away from the tall Hispanic boy, only a few years older than me. I finally found my seat, next to a woman, about mid thirties and her young daughter, about six.  
"Do you want a Skittle?" The little girl asked, holding a red packet of Skittles out.  
"No thank you." I smiled.  
"Are you sure?" She persisted, putting emphasis on the 're'.  
"Go on then." I giggled and took a yellow round sweet from the pack. The girl smiled, showing a gap where her two front teeth should be. "Thanks." I popped the lemon flavoured circle into my mouth. I settled down in my isle seat and put my backpack under my chair, getting my favourite book out: _My Sister's Keeper. _The aircraft began to rattle and gear up as the flight attendants, including Eric, demonstrated what to do in the event of an unexpected landing. After paying close attention to that, I got on with my book, trying so hard to forget my surroundings. "Please please please please." I murmured under my breath, not really reading my book. I grabbed my _Shwood_ sunglasses to keep them from falling off my face and squeezed my eyes tight shut as I felt the plane begin to lift.

After only five minuets, the little map on the screen in the chair in front of me informed me that we weren't on English land anymore. I gulped: this meant we were above sea. Don't get me wrong, I absolutely love the ocean, just not in an aircraft 1000 feet above it with no actual safe places to be. I felt myself slowly rocking back and forward in my chair, unable to control myself but pleading to stop. Suddenly the whole plane shuddered, making unseat belted passengers jolt forwards.  
"Sorry about that... Just a bit of turbulence." The pilot announced on the speaker. I heard a sigh of relief then realised it was myself. Without warning, the plane dipped down and people fell and children began to scream.  
"Sincerest apologies. We shouldn't be expecting any more turbulence but as a precaution, please could all passengers and crew be seated. Thank you" The pilot's voice returned and a dazed rabble of people shuffled back to their seats. I buried my head in my hands, constantly reminding myself that the pilot knew what he was doing. Suddenly a loud bang and people were thrown everywhere.  
"The engine." I heard a nerdy looking guy say, looking stunned.  
"Please no." I whispered to myself. "Please, god, no."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the little girl sitting next to me crying.  
"Sh... It's okay." I lied to her, putting an arm around her.  
"No. No." She was shaking violently, tears staining her swelling, red cheeks. "Look..." Her little hand clasped mine as she stammered her way through her words. "Mummy isn't awake." She whispered in horror, showing me her pale mother, slumped in her seat with blood dripping from a large crater her head. It was pandemonium. People were everywhere, screaming and crying as the plane rattled about and flight attendants held onto each other for precious life. I knew this little girl's mother was either dead or dying. I tried sugar coating the best i could.  
"You're right. Mummy isn't awake. She's fast asleep..." I gazed out the window. "Asleep in the clouds. She's safe with the fairies." I swallowed the tears as the girl smiled at her dead mother. "So. What's your name?" I livened up the tone, trying to keep the girl's naive mind from absorbing the fear around her.  
"Katniss." Her braid sat gracefully on her shoulder. "Whats yours?" Katniss finally added.  
"Annie. I'm Annie." I took her small hand into mine and she pulled me into a hug. I looked over Katniss' shoulder to see her mum. A blood stain, that was identical to the one on her forehead, was speckled on the tray table infront of her._ Cause of death? Brain trauma._

The last thing I heard before I became unconscious was hear the screams and cries of people as the plane crashed into the sea. And the first thing I heard when I regained consciousness was the sound of young Katniss pleading for me to stay with her and not go away with the fairies like her mummy.

**~February 19th 2012~**

_The Sun newspaper:_

Plane crash leaves devastation throughout the globe. 167 passenger and 6 cabin crew dead after the aircraft landed in the ocean just miles away from England. Only 24 left alive. The cause of the crash was that a bird got sucked into the left engine and clogged it- causing the whole engine to explode and damaging half of the steering wiring. It's a miracle that people actually survived and it is thought that the 24 took refuge on the wing of the plane for 30 minuets, then search teams rescued them. 19 of the survivors are still in hospital but 5 walked away with no physical injuries. The process of the plane actually crashing took more than 6 minuets. Survivors include a 6 year old girl, a 18 year old student and a 21 year old male flight attendant. There will be more news on this story in tomorrow's edition.


End file.
